


Are You Happy Now

by sharedwithyou



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angstangstangst, But As Usual Loki Does What He Wants, F/M, Loki Needs a Hug, Lovelies are sad again, Mild Triggers?, Mostly Sadness, So Loki Doesn't Get a Hug, Sorry Not Sorry, implied sad stuff, mild violence, possible triggers, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:09:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5388653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharedwithyou/pseuds/sharedwithyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>inspired by the beautiful song (and only the song)- John Wayne Gacy Jr. by Sufjan Stevens</p><p>So you reached toward the same hand that had upended the cup with your own, and he had closed his slender, porcelain fingers around it.<br/>If you had asked then, he probably would have answered well.<br/>“Are you happy my Lord?”<br/>“Yes, (y/n). I am.”</p><p> </p><p>Warning: mild triggers? Mostly sadness and maybe the message behind the song (not the fic i think though) and maybe mild violence</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are You Happy Now

**Author's Note:**

> yes i have a thing for serial killers and serial killer movie/shows/stories but this isn't based on that; if you listen to the song you'll know what i mean  
> and i highly recommend listening to the song (john wayne gacy jr. by sufjan stevens) while reading this
> 
> this is angst and i'll put a  
> WARNING: POSSIBLE TRIGGERS  
> even though it's pretty mild, just because of the story behind the song (don't look it up the story behind the song if you want to keep it mild)  
> things are sad, loki is sad, you are sad, what is new?
> 
> eventually (and i think there are a few already from me) a story of happy lokiness will happen but until then, here's this
> 
> i put a lot of soul into this so please leave me some love if you liked!!
> 
> XOXO Bucky the Mindfucker

You searched his face for signs of disapproval or warning.

You had stopped looking for anything else at this point.

A blank day was a good day.

He gave you a nod as he glanced around the room; quick as in efficient, not as in hurried. If there was a mistake he’d find it.

Today, there were none.

It was getting harder for him to find any.

“Very good.” He kept his tone impersonal, and detached, but the words were high praise nonetheless.

You accepted them with an equally impersonal nod.

“I expect the same of you tomorrow.”

You lowered your eyes and raised them in one swift motion to let him know you understood.

There was no more wishful smile, or a widening of your lashes, as if to ask “Are you happy now?”

You doubt he noticed; or rather, you doubted it made a difference. It would be a given that Loki would notice.

He swept away with a turn, his robes skirting the ground, picking up the invisible grime that you’d never be able to wipe away.

At the very least he had accepted that last part.

You sat down and resumed your studies without another look at his retreating form. God willing, you’d lose yourself in them until you saw him again.

 

“(Y/n)!”

His voice was raised, as you had hoped, but not from enthusiasm.

“Yes my Lord?”

“Did you touch my helmet?!”

It was kind of a stupid question, but you left that alone. “Yes, sir. I polished it.”

“How many times have I told you to leave my things be?!”

Twice. Although it might as well have been a million. You accepted his rhetorical, and opted to return his inquiry with another. “You are displeased, Prince Loki?”

He narrowed his eyes, but levelled his tone at the very least. “I am not happy about this, (y/n).”

So much for doing a favor. But you didn’t feel like arguing. You hadn’t dismissed it as an option yet; you were just tired from shining his possessions to a diamond brilliance to put up a good fight. “Sorry.”

“Hmm.” He made a final sound of annoyance, checking this task off his list. “See that you remember.”

I will.

Of course, he turned before you had time to supply a follow-up anyway.

Later that night, when he returned in a fury from court and knocked it off its stand, you had almost risen to put it upright again.

But you saw to it that you remembered. So you kept your look passive, and your legs crossed, surveying him from the loveseat.

He picked it up with a sigh, and resumed his rant to his confidant as he placed it back with deliberateness.

You had let the moment of silence speak for itself.

Are you happy now?

 

“No, over the bridge and underneath the waterfall!” He commanded as you furrowed your brow and raised your hand once more.

He was strict, sometimes demanding, but no one else had the opportunity to have the Trickster God as a tutor; so you complied with his practice regimens and weekly assessments. Though he was present during most of your practices so he had a very up-to-date assessment as it was. You had been chosen, so it was your privilege; if not your prerogative.

Of course, more often than not, even mealtimes became spontaneous lectures and quizzes. Unless Thor intervened loudly and vehemently, you were stuck debating the intricacies of illusion versus shapeshifting.

Maybe being alert during mastication led to indigestion; but the road to perfection isn’t paved with sweet rolls, digested or otherwise.

Eventually, though, things get better right? You adapt to the circumstance you’re placed in, so you can grow, so you can thrive. So you can do more than merely survive.

At supper one night, he was quiet and you were no longer running figures feverishly through your head. He turned to you with a small smile and asked you what you were thinking.

“If we reallocate some of the resources in the field from mass production to the community gardens, we could promote sustainability in the southwestern villages without extra manpower.”

You weren’t trying to impress him; you weren’t spouting knowledge as a defense mechanism or preemptive strike.

It had just been on your mind.

He had scoffed at this, which you found to be rude; it was a solid plan that could be executed without too much trouble, and it was worded in a way that Odin would find favorable.

“Is that all I am to you, now? Part of a cog in a political machine?”

He had waved his hand dismissively, knocking a mug of brandy off the table with a start.

You had frozen it mid-spill, and placed it next to his plate again; all without moving from your seat.

He had lifted his brows and his lips curved into a trademark smirk that somehow seemed less condescending at that moment.

So you reached toward the same hand that had upended the cup with your own, and he had closed his slender, porcelain fingers around it.

If you had asked then, he probably would have answered well.

“Are you happy my Lord?”

“Yes, (y/n). I am.”

 

And now you could hear him outside, bossing the servants around with that sharp yet somehow still smooth voice, setting his carefully planned defenses in place.

Then there was the rumbling of the Frost Giants encroaching on the castle in their big, ugly masses.

Waiting for a portal to direct them to their next destination, for another command in this organized operation.

So you summoned all the strength you had to conjure a blip, a window to the outside that allowed an entrance for the briefest of moments.

And as the Frost Prince flung open your doors, to the room rightful to the both of you, to include you in the inner workings of his masterpiece or at least his most recent thoughts of such, he saw the monster step in from the other side and let out a shout so mighty it might have freed Odin.

But you merely smiled at him, your hands trembling from the force of your last exertion, confident and satisfied and oh so fucking right.

 

**“Are you happy now?”**

 

And the Giant in the room could have knocked you against the wall, or pinned you to the bed, or thrown the bed through the wall, and it wouldn’t have made a damn difference because you could finally ask the penultimate question.

And even if he had an answer, even if he incapacitated the intruder and took a moment to piece together the memories that led up to this and weighed the pros and cons and took a step back to look at the situation objectively or at least tried to put himself in your dusty shoes, he would not have known. He would not have had a better answer than his silence.

 

So it was in this melody of nothingness that you pulled a dagger from your side and slashed the throat of the man-beast beside you, a pawn in the game of war, of life, of love, of kingdoms and of men who didn’t truly know what they wanted, and definitely not how to get it.

 

You floated in the air now, levitating high enough to snap the stranger’s already-bleeding neck, not sure of your future plans; but knowing that you would be gone and even if you missed him you probably wouldn’t be losing him because that would mean having had him in the first place.

And all this time you had been asking him, asking about him, asking for him, and he had never once asked you back.

Maybe he didn’t want to know, but you were going to tell him anyway, you were going to answer because you deserved a right to be heard, and really, it was a good question, more important than the date of the first recorded time-lapse or the combination to the safe that contained the blueprints for his next killing machine.

 

Are you happy now?

 

“Because I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY, NOT SORRY.
> 
> leave me a comment if you liked!
> 
> random ramblings:  
> i didn't include any lines from the song in case there were more trigger possibilities, but the general idea was about the darkness everyone has in their soul, whether they take it out on people, keep it bottled inside, or take it out in secret  
> in lovely's case it was a mix of everything  
> eventually i might do a serial series, but i think it's a big commitment (and possibly a partly emotional toll to keep it real) so for now i keep any violence mostly implied, or in a one-shot
> 
> this fic was quite short but i'm still proud of it
> 
> quick poll 1: was there any part in here that even remotely mindfucked you? (i didn't purposely put any in so...0
> 
> quick poll 2: what line was hardest to read
> 
> And the Giant in the room could have knocked you against the wall, or pinned you to the bed, or thrown the bed through the wall, and it wouldn’t have made a damn difference because you could finally ask the penultimate question.~ this part was supposed to be ambiguous, whether you were referring to the random monster you let into the room you and Loki shared, or Loki himself (and possibly whether you're talking about now or before)
> 
> i tried to put a bunch of nuances to paint a picture of the complicated relationship between you and Loki; let me know if it worked out/what (if anything) you were able to figure about the two of you  
> also kept it vague about whether you were a servant/student/lady/whatever
> 
> the slashing of the man-beast throat was also supposed to be ambiguous; as was the symbolism
> 
> quick poll 3: did lovely really want to kill Loki?
> 
> idk if i'll do a sequel for this, so let me know if you'd like me to (this happens a lot with my angsty loki fics)
> 
> that's all this time lovelies!!! hope you loved it!
> 
> XOXO Bucky the Mindfucker (who writes a shitload of Loki Angst)


End file.
